


Somewhere up here

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: There is a number of small things [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Affogato, Coffee, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:10:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The art of brewing coffee, as told by Draco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere up here

**Author's Note:**

> For Theodore, you know who you are.

“I want to make you something.” Draco says, leading the way into the kitchen, a satisfied smirk twisting his lips. When he urges Theodore into a stool on the opposite side of the counter, it is with a gentle kiss, and he’s still smiling as he rounds to the other side. It has been a long time since they’ve taken up these particular roles in the kitchen, years in fact, but Draco hasn’t forgotten.

 

Draco never forgets.

 

He assures Theodore that this is more than coffee, that it’s an experience, and the smirk with just a hint of mischief does little to pacify Theodore’s curiosity. Draco’s hands make quick work of collecting necessary ingredients and Theodore can’t help but silently appraise just how at home he looks right here. The sharp scent of coffee suddenly fills the air as Draco carefully scoops beans into a grinder, which he will turn into powder. ‘Espresso grind’ he tells Theodore and Theodore merely smiles at him, chin propped up on his fists. The sounds of the grinder fill the room and Draco takes the time to unknot his tie and slip it off from around his neck. Theodore quirks a brow at this and Draco’s lips twitch with a smile as he carefully sets the silk tie aside and out of harms way.

 

“You don’t want to pack it too tightly.” He explains to Theodore as he presses the fine coffee grounds into the basket with the pad of his thumb. When he is satisfied he affixes the basket to the machine and switches it on. “A perfect Espresso will have just the right amount of bitterness, although never sour. If brewed correctly, the crèma will be thick and lasting. Depending on the beans used and how they were roasted, the aroma will vary anywhere between hearty and earthy to spicy and thick.” Draco spoke in even tones as they waited for the machine to work its magic. His slate gaze never left Theodore, even when he slowly unclasped his cufflinks and dropped them next to his tie. The soft sizzle of steam began to rise up from the Espresso maker on the counter and he smiled, methodically rolling up his shirtsleeves to his elbows, the faded black lines of the only visible stain on his body just peeking out from beneath the cuff. Theodore watched all of this from behind a warm cerulean gaze and a soft smile. It wasn’t poetry, but he’d be damned if Draco couldn’t make just about anything sound sensual; even talking about brewing coffee.

 

Draco extracted a pair of martini glasses from the cupboard and placed them on the counter and then he retrieved a pint of ice cream from the chill box. The warm scent of Espresso filled the air between them and Draco smiled as he scooped some ice cream into each glass. “Vanilla bean from Amorino.” He explains, wanting Theodore to understand every process of this lesson. A smile that says what words cannot passes between them and Draco turns his attention back to the machine, and more importantly, their freshly brewed Espresso. He pours a shot into each martini glass, allowing the steaming liquid to drizzle over the ice cream. “Some people like to dress it up with whipped cream or nuts, but I’m a purist.”  Draco scoops up the pair of glasses and rounds the counter to where Theodore is seated, setting one down and taking a step closer, his knee gently nudging the other’s until they parted for him.  “Close your eyes.” Draco murmurs, and Theodore immediately obeys, his head tipping back expectantly, tongue darting out to trace over his bottom lip in anticipation.  Draco scoops up a bite of melted ice cream and espresso on the spoon and raises it to Theodore’s lips, leaving behind a smear of vanilla before his lips part. He watched intently as Theodore sucked on the softness of the ice cream and the way the column of his throat rolled delicately when he swallowed. The juxtaposition of cold and hot made this dessert a unique experience that Draco wanted to share with Theodore, right down to the first reactionary response. When a soft moan of approval slipped past his lips, Draco’s smile curved into a satisfied smirk. “You like it.” Draco murmured as he slid another spoonful into Theodore’s waiting mouth and the soft mewl of approval was answer enough.

 

Theodore’s eyes slid back open and Draco was faced with that watery blue stare once again. _“I love it.”_ He whispers and Draco sighs softly and sets the half-eaten dessert aside. When Draco rests the palm of his hand against Theodore’s cheek he leans into it and the intensity of his gaze sees right through him. He steps closer, inside of Theodore’s personal space, dropping his mouth to cover the others. His lips are cold and sticky and taste like vanilla ice cream; his tongue, the bitter sting of espresso.  When it came down to it, this wasn’t about teaching Theodore how to make anything coffee related, Draco would always be there to do that for him. This was merely Draco sharing something of himself and Theodore understanding it for what it was.

 

When they parted Draco was panting softly and Theodore’s warm breath against his lips was like coffee. He watched as Theodore reached for the glass, scooping up a spoonful and offering it to him. Draco’s darkened gaze watched him intently even as his lips parted, allowing the spoon passage. The warm sting of espresso inundated his senses and the smallest ‘mmm’ escaped him. Theodore grinned darkly and dipped the spoon back into the glass, coating it in creamy espresso. This time when he offered it to Draco he wasn’t nearly as careful and Draco knew him well enough to know that it was no accident that there was now a spreading dark coffee stain on the front of his shirt. _“Oops.”_ He said and smiled in a way that wasn’t nearly as angelic as he thought it was. “Lorenzini, I hardly knew you.” Draco comments and he sighs softly, long ago having resigned to Theodore’s fondness for desecrating his designer menswear.

 

“My turn.” Draco murmurs as he relieves Theodore of the dessert glass. He scoops up a bit of melted vanilla and offers it to the other, but not before smearing it on his bottom lip. Several spoonful’s pass precisely like this and Theodore manages to maneuver each one {mostly} into his mouth. Theodore’s fingers walk up Draco’s middle, pausing to slowly slide each pearlescent button from it’s silken bondage and Draco can’t help but wonder why he even bothers, considering the shirt is already ruined. When warm fingertips slide over his skin, Draco’s lashes flutter against his cheeks and he sets the martini glass down. Theodore hops off the stool and is suddenly standing and when Draco’s arms move to snake around his form he shakes his head and takes him by the wrists instead. In a series of slow motion movements Theodore turns them around and urges Draco back onto the stool, effectively reversing their positions.

 

Draco watches as Theodore scoops up the glass and steps closer and climbs right into his lap, straddling him. Theodore grins again and offers another spoonful to him and Draco’s lips part obediently. A dribble of espresso trails from his bottom lip to his chin and Theodore leans close enough to catch it with his tongue. The sensation on his skin is assaulting and he doesn’t miss the way his pulse quickens beneath his skin. Draco’s hands slide over Theodore’s thighs and his fingertips catch the hem of the thin T-shirt he wore, which he tugged upwards with little patience. Theodore laughed breathlessly and set aside the glass before raising his arms and allowing Draco to rid him of the offending garment. His fingers curled around the nape of Draco’s neck and twisted in his hair and his thumbs pressed into the soft spots beneath Draco’s jaw, urging his head back. When they kissed it was bitter coffee and warm vanilla. It was love and adoration and need and want, all wrapped up in a swirl of tongue and a gentle clash of teeth and Draco couldn’t get enough.

 

Theodore’s hands were on his skin again, working with what they had and reverently caressing every inch of bare flesh he could reach. The movements he makes in Draco’s lap are subtle but not lacking intent and it doesn’t take very long at all for the breathy whispers and fleeting caresses to turn into biting kisses and desperate panting.  When Draco’s fingers curl painfully into Theodore’s waist he hardly notices because he’s too fixated on the frustrating amount of clothing still between them. He mutters something incoherent and Draco somehow understands, or at least his teeth against flushed skin say so.

 

This time when their mouths meet it’s like wildfire and it burns down into Draco’s soul and he knows that there is no one else in this world that he would rather exchange and share experiences with. Theodore understands him and accepts his imperfections, even when he doesn’t accept them himself.

 

This time when his fingertips slide over Theodore’s skin it is with care. Theodore is a precious gift and although there are times when bruising and scarring are inevitable and even wanted, this is not one of those times. With a shaky and cleansing breath each kiss placed is done so with reverent intent, and Draco can’t help but smile at the subtle groan of impatience that is mixed with just enough appreciation.

 

It cannot always be like this.

  
But tonight…

 

The scent of coffee clings to the air like a sickness and still Draco loves it. There are few things that he could never tire of and two of those things happened to be right here with him. Theodore arms are slung haphazardly around his bare shoulders and his hot breath comes in short bursts against Draco’s throat.  Up and up Draco’s hands move, gliding over smooth and pale skin and pausing briefly at each indent of bone beneath skin. Theodore isn’t sure if Draco is counting ribs or merely trying to drive him mad, but either way it’s doing the job. His blunt nails scratch dull lines in Draco’s skin and he hisses quietly between parted lips and clenched teeth. It takes some maneuvering, but when it is all said and done any barrier that remained between them had effectively fallen away. Draco’s lips press against Theodore’s feverish skin and he trails a painfully slow line of open-mouthed kisses towards the base of his throat, where he wetly mouths the pronounced indent just there. Theodore’s head drops back and his fingers curl into Draco’s shoulders and it is here, at this precise moment when the lines that clearly divide them blur and mingle and cease to exist. Theodore is beautiful to Draco in ways that are not so black and white. He has always been able to see right through the other and its times like these that he think that he could simply devour Theodore. Although he might not be able to say those exact words out loud, he still manages to effortlessly convey the message all the same.

 

For every arch of Theodore’s delicately curved spine there is a reactionary retort from Draco and although the dessert glasses are long forgotten, their symbolism is not.  

 

Later, much later when the glasses had been cleared away and Draco’s cufflinks were safely stowed in their proper place they will lay beneath the duvet in Draco’s bed in a tangle of limbs and promises. Theodore will peer up at Draco in the darkness and kiss the corner of his mouth and ask him what the dessert was called.  “Affogato.” Draco will respond with a faint and sleepy smile and Theodore will drop his head back to Draco’s chest and listen to the steady thump of his heart against his ribcage.  _“I love it.”_ Theodore will whisper once again, and the meaning behind the words will transcend time and space and this moment, and Draco will know.


End file.
